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Eliza Lynn Taylor

Eliza Lynn Taylor
Eliza Lynn Taylor Freelance Writer

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Vacation in Paradise

I thought I would try what is called a summer beach read. That is a short light romance one can take to the beach to read. If only life were this simple!
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“Ahh,” Carly said, “The sun, the sand, no phones, no tech whatsoever, no worries.” She took the fruity run drink from the resort waiter. “I haven’t had a vacation in years; saved two years to here,” she told him.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the waiter replied. He picked up the signed bar check he had handed her first. “Enjoy.” He smiled and did a small bow before going to the next beach chair.

Carly stuck the small straw to her lips and sipped the sweet, icy beverage. She settled back in the chair and closed her eyes, her hand resting on the glass in its cup holder.

Suddenly she realized she in the shade. Opening her eyes she saw that someone had repositioned her umbrella. “What in the world?” she exclaimed, sitting up and looking around.

Her eyes caught sight of the expensive leather men’s sandals first, and then moved up to beige linen trousers billowing lightly in the breeze. She shifted her eyes upward to the green button-down tropical patterned shirt and then the most handsome tanned face she had ever seen. The man had a bright white smile with a dimple on his left cheek, smiling black eyes and short cropped black hair with a slight wave on top. She stared at him mouth agape slightly.

“Can’t have you burning that beautiful fair skin of yours; can we?” he said in a voice that reminded her of a British monarch.

Coming back to herself she replied, “I think I should decide if want to look like a lobster.”

He laughed out loud. “As you wish,” he chuckled and moved her umbrella back to its original position putting her back in the full sun’s rays. “Charles,” he called to the waiter, “Please bring her a tube of SPF 35. She would like to get some sun, but I don’t think she really wants to burn.”

“Yes, sir; straight away,” the waiter answered him. 

“Have an enjoyable afternoon, Madam,” the man said and sauntered back to the resort.

A moment later Charles returned, slightly out of breath, with the sunscreen. “Her you are. Will there be anything else?” he asked.

“Wow, that was fast,” Carly said. “Who was that?”

“Harrison Conroy, Ma’am. He is the owner. He is always checking on the guests, making sure they are in need of nothing. This place is his life.”

Carly raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.” She said. “I’ll have to thank him later,” she said, indicating the tube of sunscreen.

Charles nodded and quietly walked away.

“I didn’t order this,” Carly told the waitress in the restaurant later. 

The woman replied, “Mr. Conroy thought you might like an appletini.”

“Oh, does he do that for all the guests too?” Carly asked her.

“Oh, no Ma’am,” she replied. “He certainly sends Champagne to honeymooning guests, but not individual drinks, no. At least I’ve never seen him do it, and I’ve been here ten years.” She gave Carly a wink. “I think he fancies you,” she added in a whisper.

Carly chuckled. “I can’t imagine I made that good an impression, but thank him for me.”

After dinner Carly wandered over the resorts dance club. The music was loud and bodies moved to the beat of the music underneath a mirrored glass ball. She ordered a glass of wine and stood near a tall table watching the couples dance and groups of friends drag one another out onto the floor to dance. “I should have brought someone along too,” she sighed. She left her glass, half-finished on the table and left the club. 

Carly grabbed a cup of coffee from a beach side coffee shop and leaned over the deck railing walking the waves gently roll to shore and back out as the full moon reflected on the water further out to sea. She breathed deeply relaxing and almost dropped her coffee.
A hand reached out and steadied the cup. Carly jumped and then saw whose hand it was. She smiled. “Mr. Conroy; you saved me once again.”

He smiled. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s just so beautiful and peaceful,” she said with a shrug.

“This is my favorite time of day,” he said. “Work is done and there is the beach mostly empty of people.”

Carly nodded. “It’s better shared,” she said absently, looking at a couple seated in the sand laughing with one another.

“Yes, it is,” Harrison returned. “Please call me Harrison,” he said
.
Carly nodded. “I’m Carly,” she added just in case he hadn’t already figured out her name.
“Carly, it is so nice to meet you,” he said and gently patter her hand.

For the rest of the week Carly found herself in the company of Harrison Conroy. He would suggest an outing away from the usual tourist attractions and she would go. They had dinner together and made a round at the night club.

“Are you sure you don’t do this all the time?” Carly finally asked him on their last evening together. They were walking on the beach holding hands, their shoes in their other hands.

“I haven’t had a break from work in years either. I live in Paradise and I don’t get to enjoy it. I thought I was living the ultimate vacation,” he added. “And then you said it was better shared, and I knew you were right.”
Carly smiled and kissed his cheek. “Well, I could do this everyday day, but unfortunately, reality bites and I have a flight back to Chicago early in the morning. I still have to pack.

Harrison walked Carly to her room and kissed her passionately.

“I have wanted to do that for days,” he said. “I have to work, but my driver will pick you up. You have to be there two hours early for international flights remember,” he said changing the subject.

A tear slid down Carly’s face. She didn’t dare utter what she was dying to say so she just said quietly, “Thank you. You’ve made this the most memorable vacation I have ever had, or probably ever will have again.”

Harrison smiled as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Good night, Carly.”

Two weeks later…

“Girl, you came back from that island glowing and happy and well rested,” Carly’s friend Monica told her. “I know Chicago is pretty rough, especially compared to St. Thomas, but you look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks Monica,” Carly told her. “I just can’t stop thinking about Harrison.”

“The resort owner! You never did tell me much about that,” she said.

Carly pulled out her cell phone and displayed a photo she had taken of Harrison Conroy.

“Oh, he is gorgeous,” Monica said. “No wonder you’re having a hard time.” She looked through the glass panel in Carly’s office wall next to the door. “Even better in person.”

“What?” Carly hit the button closing the display screen and put her phone down. She followed Monica’s gaze. “Oh, my God,” she said quietly and slowly. Her phone buzzed and it made her jump.

“Carly, there is someone out here to see you,” the receptionist said.

“I’ll be right there,” Carly replied. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair and straightened her skirt as she stood.

Monica laughed. “He’s seen you without makeup, in a bathing suit no less. Don’t worry about it; just go.”

Carly blushed and smiled. She tried to look confident as she entered the outer office, but gave up the closer she got to the desk and just ran the last fifteen feet with her arms outstretched. 

Harrison caught her and kissed her. “Did you mean what you said about being able to work on the island every day?”

Carly smiled and nodded. 

“Then I need your help desperately. I can’t eat, or sleep, or think. You are all I see. I love you," he said.

Carly smiled. She turned to her co-workers who were beaming at them. “Tell the boss I quit. Sorry about the short notice. Send my stuff to my apartment, but do it quick. I won’t be there long.”



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